


I'm Yours And Suddenly You're Mine

by milky_haven



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Falling In Love, Fred is jealous of his cat, Fred just wants a wedding ring, Freddie and Roger are utter disaster, Freddie likes to steal Roger's clothes, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Roger and his monthly wedding anniversary roses to Freddie, Roger is actually a romantic arsehole, a date in the zoo, because said cat is being too close to Roger, but it's my fic so let the boys be married, even though he's saying he wants a diamond ring, my fail attempt at writing crack, no infidelity, pining Freddie, this will never happen in the 70s, woke up married in Las Vegas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milky_haven/pseuds/milky_haven
Summary: A marriage certificate. Did Roger get hitched with someone last night? This is very interesting.Freddie clears his throat a second, then reads it out because it is just too scandalous to pass up the chance to embarrass Roger: “This is to certify that the undersigned Justice Patricia Salvador did on the 15th day of December A.D 1977 join in lawful wedlock, Roger Meddows Taylor of Norfolk, country of England, and Farrokh Bulsara-”Freddie freezes immediately. Now he has another thing pounding behind his chest, as well as his throbbing head. It’s a miracle he isn’t screaming at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. His gaze turns to Roger, and he still has that solemn look on his face. The first thing that escapes from Freddie’s mouth is, “That’s not my name. I’m Freddie Mercury.”aka Freddie and Roger get illegally married for fun and end up with a legal marriage license during their News of The World USA Tour.Or, a story about Freddie falling in love with his accidental husband.





	1. I Want To Be Everything That You Didn't Know You're Looking For

**Author's Note:**

> This is originally a oneshot but it's getting longer so I've split it into three parts. Hopefully I won't be adding a part four because I really don't need another multi-chapter fanfic. One of the main inspirations I wrote this when I was Googling some stuff, I saw Elvis Presley's marriage license which did not indicate who is the bride and bridegroom like the marriage certificate of nowadays. I guess in those days, those little information are not necessary. So my crazy idea was someone could put anyone’s name in the certificate and everyone will simply assumed it’s a marriage between a man and a woman.
> 
> Some inspirations came from talking with my most favourite person in the world, [Sjaak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjaak/pseuds/Sjaak). So a very special shout-out to them! I'm always praying for your recovery and hope this fic will make your day. Also, a shout-out to [MrsRochester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRochester/pseuds/MrsRochester) for being absolutely lovely person to talk to as well. I want to thank to my beta, [hit or miss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_or_miss/pseuds/hit_or_miss), who had done a really great job. I've always appreciate your time for helping me. Thank you so much! Other mistakes in this fic are mine.
> 
> I hope everyone will enjoy this story which is supposed to be crack but unfortunately, it doesn't really turn out to be that way. Therefore, this is a crack fic that is treated serious with 99% fluff and 1% angst content.

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Freddie opens his eyes blearily and groans. The sun is too bright and his head is pounding painfully. Why the bloody hell did he forget to pull the curtain over the windows? Then, he recalls that he is not in his own bedroom in Kensington. Right. He’s in a hotel room. He moves his gaze to the side and catches sight of… Roger sitting on the floor next to his bed. How did Roger even end up in his room in the first place?

He squints his eyes and wonders if he is dreaming or not. Roger notices him awake and shifts nearer, kneeling at the side of the bed. He brings his face closer to Freddie. Freddie can see his solemn blue eyes. His heart is racing. It’s so rare to see Roger this way. He wonders what caused Roger to look like that. 

“Freddie,” he says.

Freddie stops breathing momentarily. Oh dear God, did someone in his family pass away?

“We fucked up.”

_What?_

“Huh?” Freddie replies stupidly.

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

Freddie tries to rack his brains through his pounding headache. He remembers they were all celebrating in a post-show party after another successful concert. There was a lot of booze and Freddie had been smoking some joints. Perhaps the party had been too wild. Freddie also remembers getting into their rented car and Roger driving too fast to somewhere. Wait. Did they kill someone along the way? Freddie wonders if while they were high and drunk some old lady tried to cross the road and Roger had hit and killed her. Freddie takes a deep breath. He needs to tell Miami to bring in the big guns. Yes, they’re going to need so many lawyers because Freddie swears he won’t let anyone take Roger away and let him rot in jail… but Freddie also recalls there was a chapel. What were they doing in a chapel?

“Uh, no.” His voice cracks as he responds. Freddie clears his throat and asks hesitantly, “Did we kill someone?”

Roger sighs disappointedly and turns around to the bedside table. Freddie doesn’t realise there is a piece of paper sitting there until he notices Roger is picking it up. The paper hits the light from the sun, the dark trim of the border sparkling briefly. Freddie realises it’s not just a simple piece of paper. It’s a certificate. He takes it from Roger and looks over it.

A marriage certificate. Did Roger get hitched with someone last night? This is very interesting.

Freddie clears his throat a second, then reads it out because it is just too scandalous to pass up the chance to embarrass Roger: “This is to certify that the undersigned Justice Patricia Salvador did on the 15th day of December A.D 1977 join in lawful wedlock, Roger Meddows Taylor of Norfolk, country of England, and Farrokh Bulsara-”

Freddie freezes immediately. Now he has another thing pounding behind his chest, as well as his throbbing head. It’s a miracle he isn’t screaming at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. His gaze turns to Roger, and he still has that solemn look on his face. The first thing that escapes from Freddie’s mouth is, “That’s not my name. I’m Freddie Mercury.”

“Very funny, _Farrokh_. Despite what you told your dad, I know you haven’t changed your legal name yet,” Roger replies sarcastically. His blue eyes burn a hole into Freddie and he swallows, thinking about how ridiculously handsome Roger looks at this moment.

There is only silence after that. Freddie stares at the certificate as it slips from between his fingers. He continues to stare at it, then at Roger, then back at the certificate. This is not happening. This is a joke, a very good one that is incredibly believable- and Roger did it so well. Freddie immediately bursts into laughter. He laughs hard and loud, despite the severe hangover that he’s suffering through. He just can’t help himself, and he’s aware he probably sounds hysterical now. 

“You’ve got me! You did it!” He wheezes so hard that he feels his stomach cramp from laughing too much.

Roger actually smacks his chest and Freddie howls in pain. “That hurt, you arsehole!”

“Well, you’re an arsehole too. You’re laughing hysterically, thinking this is some kind of sick joke. And can’t you see your own bloody handwriting?!”

Of course Freddie recognises his own hand writing, and he can’t believe he was so utterly drunk that he wrote down his real name.

“Then why aren’t you freaking out? Why is there no wedding ring on my finger?”

“I’ve been freaking out since an hour ago, while you were having your beauty sleep! I tried to wake you up but you were snoring away-” 

“I don’t snore!”

“-and nearly punched me when I tried to shake you awake! Besides, there is no law that requires us to exchange rings in a wedding ceremony.”

Freddie doesn’t know what to say after that. He feels like someone has pulled a rug from beneath him and he’s falling, and he keeps falling as there’s no way for him to stop while gravity keeps pulling him down. 

His hand trembles as he reaches out for the paper again. It feels smooth against his skin, and it’s thick. Like a _real_ certificate. A very _genuine_ marriage certificate.

“So, you and I are _married_ ,” Freddie whispers, his voice choking a little.

“Yes, _legally_ ,” replies Roger.

There’s a heavy lead inside the pit of his stomach, and Freddie feels a sudden nausea. He lets go of the paper and quickly jumps up from the bed. He runs towards the toilet and sinks to his knees on the cold tiles, vomiting into the toilet bowl.

 

-

 

Freddie wonders how they could get so messed up in one night. He’s also quite surprised that he’s had such a blackout from drinking too much alcohol. He can barely remember any of what happened in the chapel. This is a first time for him, and he swears he’s never going to drink so much again.

How could they have actually gone through with their own _wedding_ without getting caught by the police and sent to prison? And who the hell would officiate a wedding ceremony between _two men_? The most surprising thing is that they actually managed to get a _legal marriage license_. Freddie curses himself and Roger for getting high and drunk the night before. Fuck.

Freddie takes a quick shower while Roger calls for room service. The shower actually calms him down, and despite the dull throbbing in his head due to a massive hangover, he manages to get his head straight. Freddie hopes that this predicament they’re in can be fixed. By the time he gets out of the bathroom, donning just his bathrobe, Roger is sitting in front of the breakfast trolley. He is glaring furiously at the slice of bread he is currently buttering.

He sits across from Roger and takes a sip of the hot tea that Roger has prepared for him. It’s truly amazing that Roger is still attentive enough to take care of Freddie, despite being utterly angry at him in this moment. Sometimes Freddie thinks he doesn’t deserve a best friend like Roger. 

He offers Freddie the buttered bread, which causes the knot in his chest to slightly untangle. He thanks Roger gratefully before taking a bite. After he swallows another sip of the tea, he asks, “How did you end up in my room?”

Roger huffs at him in annoyance. “Obviously, I carried you and ended up sleeping here. I woke up on the floor. I still have bloody neck pain!” He grumbles the end of his sentence as he massages the side of his neck and winces.

Freddie puts down his bread and gets up from his seat. He goes to the fridge to get some ice, and wraps it in a hand towel. Then he walks back towards Roger, this time sitting on his lap instead.

“Hey!”

“Shut up! I’m trying to help here. There’s no space for me to sit next to you.” Freddie gently presses the ice on Roger’s neck. “Is it here? I noticed you’ve been touching this area a lot.”

A hint of a smile graces Roger’s lips for the first time, “Why can’t you just let me be angry with you for one more hour?”

The knot in his chest finally clears up, and Freddie sighs in relief. He and Roger are going to be alright, despite the mess they’re in, and that’s all that matters to Freddie.

After he makes sure that Roger feels a bit better, he lets Roger take over pressing the ice to his neck and gets back to his own seat.

“Can you explain to me what exactly happened last night?”

“We argued about Elvis Presley and Ann-Margret secretly being married. I told you it was part of the filming but you believed that they actually got hitched for real.”

“So we went to the Little Church of the West.”

“Yes. While we were there, we also got pissed drunk with the owners ‘cause they were pretty excited with our presence.”

“And we got married after that?”

Roger gives him a pointed look. “It was you who suggested we get married because you said it was going to be _fun_. And I, being the idiot who was under the heavy influence of drugs and alcohol, simply agreed with you.”

Freddie feels himself slumping further into his own seat. He thinks that they should meet the person who signed their marriage certificate. Or, at least see the owners of the Little Church of the West. Before they could set a plan, someone knocks on Freddie’s door and reminds them to get ready: they need to check out of the hotel soon. Unfortunately, they have to leave Las Vegas and catch a plane to San Diego.

 

-

 

Freddie thinks that it’s a miracle none of the paparazzi have caught the sensational story of him being married to Roger. He wonders if the owners of the chapel remember that they had made two Queen members married. They could have sold this story to the press for a big sum of money. He fervently hopes the owners have blackout drunk spells like him.

He can barely concentrate properly before their concert. Queen has a press conference with the journalists in San Diego. He is just waiting for the shoe to drop, keeping his ears open for any of the journalists asking about what happened last night in Vegas. He keeps smoking like a train as he avoids answering most of the questions, letting Brian, Deacy, or Roger to respond them. He’s glad that at least Roger is not as distracted as he is, despite noticing that he seems nervous. Some of them specifically want Freddie to answer, but he merely shrugs his shoulders at them and continues to smoke. Let them think he’s being aloof or just an arsehole. He doesn’t give a damn. He’s just too high-strung to be friendly with these buggers. 

The interview is only half-way done and he’s already finished one box. Roger must have noticed his agitation, because he offers his own fag to Freddie. Freddie feels so grateful and thinks that Roger could make a remarkable _husband_. He blushes instantly. Bloody hell. To think that Roger is his husband. Freddie almost has a meltdown in front of the journalists, but manages to calm himself down after he takes a few deep breaths as discreetly as he can.

Once the press conference ends, Freddie is so relieved that he turns his gaze to meet Roger’s, and chuckles. Roger responds with a reassuring smile, then reaches out, squeezing Freddie’s hand briefly. It lasts merely a second but the heat from his hand stays longer, bringing huge comfort to Freddie.

Freddie pointedly ignores his own heated cheeks. He always feels this way when Roger does this sweet little gesture. It’s normal, he thinks.

 

-

 

So they continue on with their tour for a few more days until it is finally time to fly back to London. Christmas is coming soon. Everyone already has plans to go back to their families and girlfriends, or wife in Deacy’s case, while Freddie sees himself spending Christmas day with his cats and maybe a visit from Mary.

During their final hours in Los Angeles, after Queen has concluded their News of The World tour in the USA, Freddie is packing his clothes into his suitcases when he finds the certificate rumpled between his dirty clothes. He almost forgot that it existed. Before they left Las Vegas, Roger had forgotten to take it with him when he left Freddie’s room. So Freddie had simply picked it up and chucked it into his suitcase. Freddie doesn’t need a reminder that he’s married to his own best friend. But to see the marriage certificate is like proof to his face that it actually _happened_. That it’s _real_.

Freddie laughs hysterically on his own. Out of the many crazy things that Freddie has done in his life, this one definitely takes the cake. Once he stops his fit of laughter, gasping for air as he lays on the floor of his hotel room, other hand clutching the marriage certificate, he contemplates whether he should seek legal advice from Miami regarding this matter. Besides, marriage between two men is illegal. Freddie wonders if this marriage license is void.

 

-

 

When he’s back in London, he refuses any outing with anyone. Kenny’s rung him up a few times to ask whether he wants to hang out with their friends. Paul keeps on suggesting he throw a New Year’s party. He ignores him. Freddie even tells him to stop coming to his house, because he just wants to be left alone. David Bowie and his wife invite him to their Christmas party, to which he responses with a little white lie that he’s feeling a bit under the weather.

Freddie just needs some alone time to process what the actual fuck he had done in Las Vegas. He’s a married man. He and Roger had illegally married and they had gotten a legal marriage license.

His heart flips every time he sees the marriage certificate. He simply blames it on the fact that he’s scared someone will find out about this. Their career will be destroyed. He doesn’t care if something happens to him. The press is already implicating Freddie of being a homosexual. But Freddie swears he will not let Roger go through that, and get dragged into Freddie’s queer reputation. Roger would be ruined. Freddie just doesn’t want to drag Roger’s name through the mud. 

Freddie contemplates tearing the paper and then burning away the evidence. 

He doesn’t.

 

-

 

Freddie hasn’t even called his parents yet, and that’s because he can’t trust himself from blurting out: “Mama, papa, I’m married. No. It’s not to someone’s daughter. I am married to a man. You’ve met him a few times. By the way, I have proof that our marriage might be legal.” Yes. That would go quite well.

Worst case scenario, papa gets a heart attack, or demands to sue the people who signed their wedding certificate, causing this scandalous story to be practically gifted to the press. 

The _least_ worst case scenario, mama doesn’t care that he’s married to a man and will demand a Persian wedding, forcing poor Roger to go through all those Zoroastrian traditions with Freddie. He suddenly imagines him and Roger dipping their little fingers into a silver bowl of honey and feeding it to each other. 

Freddie feels himself blushing furiously. A strange feeling swells behind his chest. There’s nothing more to it, he tells himself. He is merely embarrassed.

 

-

 

A day after New Year’s, Roger is standing in front of his house. Freddie tries to ignore how his heart stutters at the sight of his best friend.

“Happy New Year,” Roger says cheerfully, with his devastatingly handsome grin. Freddie responds with his own enthusiastic greeting and hugs Roger. Roger has just come back from celebrating Christmas and New Year in his parents’ hometown.

“What’s your New Year’s resolution?” he asks Freddie, as they walk through the foyer towards the living room.

“I want a diamond ring from _my husband_ ,” quips Freddie, blushing instantaneously when he realises he’s just said that out loud. He wonders if it’s too early to make such a joke. He gazes at Roger furtively, and notices that he flashes slightly red before coughing discreetly. He pulls out a bottle of Lambrusco wine from the paper bag that he brought with him. He offers it to Freddie.

“No roses for me?” he mock pouts, accepting the wine bottle from Roger.

Roger laughs. “Only for our wedding anniversary,” he teases back, and Freddie is relieved that Roger doesn’t feel resentful about their predicament. Freddie ponders how Roger had agreed to marry him in the first place. Despite being under the influence, Roger must’ve thought it _wrong_ for two men to be married. Freddie is also quite puzzled for himself to even suggest that getting married is going to be fun.

Or perhaps being married to _Roger_ is going to be fun. Freddie quickly gets rid of the thought. He asks hesitantly, “So what are we going to do about _this_?” His hand waves between them, indicating the marriage issue.

Roger sighs. “Either we could discuss the matter with Miami or just leave it as it is for now. We’re lucky the press hasn’t found out about this. And so far those witnesses who signed the certificate are keeping this quiet. Maybe they realised their mistake because they know it is illegal, and their wedding business will be at risk.”

Freddie hums as he finally solves the mystery of those two names that had signed as their witnesses. Apparently they also happened to be the owners of the chapel they got married at. It does make sense for them to stay quiet rather than selling this story to the press. It will be bad for their business and their license will be taken away. Even if they managed to sell the story to the highest bidder, their reputation would always follow them anywhere for allowing two men to marry, especially two famous rockstars like Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor.

He goes to the kitchen and puts the wine in the fridge to chill. He turns back to Roger, who is following him from behind. “Are you staying for lunch?”

“Are you offering to cook for me?” Roger smirks at him.

Freddie giggles. “Of course I’m cooking for my husband. What kind of spouse would I be if I let you go hungry?”

Freddie had already defrosted the beef, before Roger came. So Roger agrees to have beef stew since it’s the best warm meal to tuck in to as it starts snowing outside again. He offers to cut the vegetables and peel the onions while Freddie cleans the beef and chops it into bite-sized pieces. They always did things like this back in the days when they used to share a flat together. Freddie misses it sometimes.

Since they have to wait for the beef to cook until it’s tender, Roger and Freddie play Scrabble while snacking on cheese and crackers. The cats are lazing around them, and sometimes one will come closer to sniff at their letter blocks. They play for three rounds, Roger winning the first and second round, and Freddie managing to get the upper hand in the final round. After that, they realise that two hours have passed- the grandfather clock shows a quarter past one, and the delicious smell of stew fills the house. Freddie decides that they should start preparing the mash potato.

Freddie peels the boiled potatoes while he listens to Roger’s plans to pick up Dominique from the airport tomorrow evening. Freddie had almost forgotten about her existence. Roger had only recently started dating her so their relationship is still pretty new.

“Are you going to tell her about _us_?” Freddie’s heart does a weird somersault when he said that. As if they were _together_. In a _relationship_. But he and Roger are married. So, there’s no as if. They are together, _technically_.

Roger’s brows are drawn together as he has a thoughtful look on his face for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “Let’s just keep this between us.”

After they finish their meal, Freddie washes the plates and Roger helps to wipe them dry. While Freddie scrubs the plates, more bubbles start to rise inside the kitchen sink. Feeling playful, Freddie scoops a handful of bubbles and blows them towards Roger. He yelps as he jumps away from Freddie to avoid getting soap on him. Freddie giggles at him and Roger nudges him with his shoulder. 

He points at Freddie’s face with an amused grin. “You have soap on your face.” Roger uses the cloth to wipe the soap on Freddie’s nose, then moves the cloth to the other side of his face. Roger’s face is so near to his that Freddie can gaze into Roger’s summer blue eyes incredibly closely. His elegant eyelashes. His handsome brows. Freddie swallows as he feels the odd thumping in his chest.

When Roger decides to go home, Freddie packs him a big container of beef stew and another container of mash potatoes. “For your supper tonight and lunch tomorrow,” he says, offering them to Roger.

Roger winks at him. “Keep up being this sweet to me, and you might just get your diamond ring.” They laugh and share a brief hug.

Freddie waves goodbye as he watches Roger drive out towards the main road. He feels giddy the whole day. He knows that Roger is the cause of his ailment. He thinks that he is just too happy to spend time with his best friend.

 

-

 

Mary drops by at his house to visit him. Despite the painful break up they had a year ago, they remain friends, and that is one of the few things that Freddie shall always remain grateful for in his life.

“Those are pretty roses you have there, Fred,” she tells him when she notices the red roses in the vase that he keeps on the piano. Usually he avoids putting anything on the piano, but this is the one exception.

“Roger gave them to me,” he smiles absently, remembering how Roger had surprised him yesterday. He had come with two dozen red roses and greeted Freddie excitedly on the day of their one month anniversary of their accidental wedding. Freddie had laughed so loudly that he was pretty sure his neighbours had heard him. Honestly, Freddie had thought it was such a sweet gesture- even though Roger did it as a joke. 

“Did something else happen?” Mary teases him.

Freddie blushes. _Roger and I got married in Las Vegas_ , he wants to tell her. But he decides against it. 

 

-

 

On their first day of practise in preparation for their European News of the World tour, they spend more time fooling around then practising. Freddie tries to play the drums while Roger takes over Brian’s Red Special, and John follows along as he plays his bass. Brian sits on the piano bench, and everyone is laughing at Freddie’s horrible drumming. It had been a pretty great day until the appearance of Dominique.

Freddie tries not to pay any attention to the weird twinge in his chest when he catches a glimpse of Dominique kissing Roger.

 

-

 

Freddie goes to the Vauxhall tavern with Kenny and some other guys that he rarely meets but occasionally hangs out with. He’s drinking and dancing with some of the drag queens. He is introduced to some guys and they’re laughing at his jokes. Twice he gets fondled by some blokes and once a guy even pulls Freddie onto his lap and tries to kiss him. He brushes them off and gets so annoyed that he demands a private booth so that nobody can come to bother him. 

No matter how pretty or handsome they are, he’s simply not in the mood. He just wants to enjoy the night. When some of the guys in their group are missing, already having found partners to fuck, only Kenny and he are left, hidden away from the other on-lookers.

“You’re acting odd tonight,” Kenny tells him.

Freddie turns to look at him, sipping his drink while waiting for Kenny to say something more.

“I didn’t see you snogging any bloke. You sent away anyone who got handsy with you. And that ginger with the hot pants was eye-fucking you on the dance floor but not even once did you glance his way.”

Kenny is precisely right. Freddie isn’t being himself at all. Actually, he has been feeling _weird_ since the day he found out he’s married to Roger Taylor. His heart flips. Again. Sometimes he wonders if he has a heart problem. He blames this entirely on Roger.

Roger Taylor. His drummer and vocalist. His best friend. And now, his _accidental_ husband.

“Something on your mind?” Kenny asks.

He must have drunken too much tonight because he blurts out, without thinking, “I’ve got a husband.”

Kenny howls with laughter. “That’s very funny!” He bends over in his seat and keeps laughing. Freddie rolls his eyes. But he’s relieved, grateful that Kenny thinks he’s too drunk or high and doesn’t take his words seriously. He really should stop drinking. He already had a blackout in Las Vegas, and was unable to remember how exactly he managed to get married to Roger. If he continues to drink tonight, he’ll probably kill the next guy who tries to fondle him. Freddie wouldn’t be surprised if the next day he can’t remember where he buried the body.

“I’m going home.”

Kenny sobers up immediately. “Huh? But the night is still young!”

Freddie simply grins at his friend. Then he kisses both of Kenny’s cheeks, and once his mouth. “Have fun with your boys, darling.”

Freddie walks out of the building and shivers at the cold night. He easily gets a cab and tells the driver his home address. He watches the night life of London as the driver brings him back home. He jiggles one foot. He feels antsy.

They arrive in front of the gate of his townhouse in Kensington. He pays his fare and then gets out of the cab. Freddie rushes up the stairs and unlocks his front door. He steps inside the house without turning on the lights. The silence inside is deafening. He hears the _tap, tap, tap_ of the leaking tap in the kitchen. Oscar rubs himself against Freddie and meows at him. Freddie carries him to his bedroom. 

He still feels utterly restless. All that dancing didn’t really distract him or at least provide some kind of release. Perhaps it’s not dancing and hanging out with the guys that he needs. He feels like he needs to do something.

He looks at the phone in the sitting area of his master bedroom. He drops Oscar on his bed and goes to the phone. He picks it up, and instead of dialing Mary’s number like he always does, his fingers are already pressing Roger’s number. The ringing tone fills his ear. He wonders what he should say to Roger.

 _I accidentally told Kenny that I have a husband. Don’t worry. He doesn’t believe me. He thought it was a joke._ Yeah, that could be a reason for him to be calling Roger at… he turns his gaze to the clock on the wall and realises it’s nearly one in the morning. Roger must be sleeping already. Before he hangs up, there’s a click sound.

His heart thunders behind his chest. He opens his mouth to greet Roger.

“Hello?” a sleepy woman’s voice.

Freddie puts down the phone on its receiver quietly. He’s being utterly stupid. He wonders what exactly he is trying to accomplish by calling Roger. Of course Dominique would pick up the phone. She ought to stay over at his place because she is Roger’s girlfriend.

He feels the same weird twinge behind his chest. He hugs Oscar and goes to sleep with a hollow heart, feeling like he’s missing something. Or _somebody_.

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoy reading this even though it ends with a little angst. The next part is pure fluff. Leave a comment and tell me what you think. And don't forget to click on the little cute kudos button. Thank you so much and have a lovely weekend, my beautiful readers! :))


	2. I Look At You As A Friend Until I Realise I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger is so focused and so beautiful that it _hurts_ to look at him. Because every time Freddie does, his skin feels hot, lungs constricting, heart quivering, and he’s not sure if he’s on the verge of a bowel movement or there’s something else going on inside his abdomen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that this is so late. My beta, [hit_or_miss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_or_miss/pseuds/hit_or_miss) had their final exams for the past one month which I’m so grateful that they’re taking the time to help me and made this chapter perfect. Other mistakes in this chapter is mine. And to everyone who gave feedback in the previous chapter, thank you so much! You guys are absolutely amazing and being very enthusiastic about this crack fic. I appreciate all the kudos that I received. More than a hundred kudos in one chapter! That’s crazy! I LOVE YOU GUYS!
> 
> A big shout-out to none other than my one and always favourite person in the world, [Sjaak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjaak/pseuds/Sjaak). Thank you for helping me with the law facts. I feel quite confident with the ending of this story now. And you always made me laugh so hard with just about everything that we talked about. Another shout-out to [MrsRochester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRochester/pseuds/MrsRochester) who never fail to update me all the cute stuff these boys did last time! Alright. I hope everyone will enjoy reading part two. When you reach the end, you may need to see your dentist because this chapter is just too sweet.

Despite the fact that they’re still not done with their News of The World Tour, EMI and Elektra have already informed them that they need to release another new album within the year. So, once they’ve finished their tour in Europe and the United Kingdom, they will only be allowed to take a short break before they start recording their new album. 

So Freddie makes himself busy by writing songs: he still has two more months before Queen continues on with their tour in early April, anyway. He tries to get lost in the words he’s singing, along with the melody he’s playing on the piano. He does. Most of the time. Sometimes he presses the wrong key or forgets his own lyrics, which causes him to loose his concentration afterwards. He can’t truly grasp what makes him feel so fidgety and distracted.

Even hanging out with Kenny and their friends on some nights does not quell down the feelings. Whenever he thinks he’s having a good time, there’s always some random bloke trying to get into his pants. And when he goes alone to some of the usual pubs where he had gone with Brian, Deacy, and Roger before, some chicks start flocking around him once they realise he’s Freddie Mercury. At least it’s easier for a girl to accept his rejection. When he says no to a guy, most of the time they just think he’s playing hard to get. He’s flattered, honestly, but can’t these people just let him be with his beer and leave him to get lost in the rhythm of the music without getting groped by someone.

Surprisingly, the feelings always quiet down during practise. Maybe because he’s distracted by practising their songs, or because he’s hanging out with three people that he considers as his own family. Or, perhaps there’s Roger, who never fails to brighten up his day with jokes that Freddie can’t help but laugh at until the ache in his cheeks and the cramp in his stomach remains with him until the next day.

When they’re taking a break from practise, Freddie follows Roger to wherever he’s going for a smoke. At the exit stairs. In one of the storage rooms. Or simply behind the drum-kit, where Freddie chooses to stand close to Roger who is sitting on his stool. He knocks his fist playfully on the floor tom and the ride cymbal as they both share a fag. He wants to bask in Roger’s presence. It’s really odd. He’s not used to behaving this way. 

When he was just starting to get to know Roger, all Freddie wanted to do was read him like a book. He knew he was going to get lost in it, unveiling its story, word by word, page by page. Even when they started living together, and Freddie knew almost every quirk of Roger’s, wanting to know more about Roger eventually turned into just wanting to be with Roger. They can talk about anything and everything and most of the time, Roger just gets him. 

It takes him some years to realise that he only behaves this way towards Roger and not towards Brian and Deacy, even though they are his best friends too. Roger seems to be the _special_ one. But as years pass by, the strange need buries deep inside him. Dating Mary had helped Freddie to build a wall between himself and Roger.

But ever since that morning in Las Vegas, the wall is slowly crumbling, brick by brick, and every little sweet gesture from Roger reminds Freddie of his very _peculiar_ feelings. He doesn’t want to think too deeply about it. Roger is his _best friend_.

But what if said best friend had accidentally become his husband?

“Freddie.”

Freddie’s thoughts get interrupted, and he blinks at the sudden appearance of several lights and deep pink roses under his nose. Roger is grinning at him as he presents Freddie with a bouquet. So that’s where Roger has gotten to. He told everyone during practise that he needed an hour’s break because he had to pick up something. Roger must have dropped by the florist’s just to get Freddie his anniversary roses. It was too sweet of him to do this. It doesn’t even feel like it’s a joke anymore.

A giggle escapes Freddie as he takes the lovely bouquet of roses. Roger is such a romantic arsehole.

Brian catches them with the roses. He stares at them in bewilderment before shaking his head as if thinking that there’s some kind of game Roger and Freddie are getting a little bit too into. Brian immediately mutters under his breath something relating to the fact that he doesn’t want to know about it, or even get involved in it. Then he fixes Roger with a scowl. “You got Freddie his flowers, but what about our lunch? Did you get that?”

Roger glares back at Brian. “We have PAs to do that for us! Kate and Harold already prepared lunch in the staff kitchen. John is already over there, probably eating half of your portion!”

Brian lights up instantly, ignoring Roger’s jibe as he quickly walks out of the studio, towards where the food is calling for him. 

Roger huffs in slight annoyance at the guitarist. Then he turns his attention back to Freddie.

“Before I was so rudely interrupted, I just wanted to say a happy two month anniversary.” Roger smiles sweetly as he speaks.

Freddie teases him, “Careful, darling. I might just fall in love with you.” Roger merely laughs at his joke.

 

-

 

Their practices for concerts are only twice a week, so it’s easier to set a date when everyone is free to meet up and discuss songs that will be recorded for the new album. Freddie also wants to talk about the name of their new album: he’s planning for something short and simple but still classy sounding. He hopes the others are able to give him some ideas. On the day that they are supposed to meet up, Roger calls Freddie.

He doesn’t sound himself through the phone, and Freddie is worried when he says, “I’m not feeling well. I’ve come down with a fever and a cold.”

“Oh, we could cancel and meet another day.”

“No. I’ve told Bri and John too so you guys can go ahead without me.”

So Freddie lets the driver assigned by EMI to pick him up and send him to the studio. He’s the last person to arrive and greets Brian and Deacy without his usual facade of grandeur. It feels strange to be in the studio knowing that Roger is sick. His thoughts keep straying towards the other man. Is he taking medicine? Is he starving? Has anyone checked on him? He wonders if Dominique is making sure that Roger is getting some rest.

The meeting barely lasts more than half an hour before Freddie tells the others he has a headache and wants to go home and rest. Brian and John glance at each other. Freddie is aware that both men must have noticed that he was distracted the whole time. They know that keeping Freddie longer with them will not bring anything fruitful. Without saying anything else, they let Freddie go home early.

Instead of going back to his house in Kensington, Freddie instructs the driver to go to the supermarket and the pharmacy. Once he gets all the groceries that he needs in Sainsbury’s, and buys some Panadol, Piriton, and a vapour rub from Morrison’s, the driver pulls up at Roger’s house. If Dominique is around, then he’ll just hand the stuff to her.

Freddie rings the doorbell. It takes about a minute before the door opens. There stands Roger, who looks quite sickly with a red nose, wearing a really big knitted sweater. Sometimes he really wonders about Roger’s fascination with baggy clothes.

“You don’t have to do this, Freddie.” Roger tells him when he realises what’s inside the grocery bag. Freddie ignores him and hands over the plastic bag to Roger.

“Where’s Dominique?” asks Freddie.

“Work.”

Freddie feels quite indignant about that. He’d never leave Roger fending off his fever and cold on his own. He remembers taking emergency leave when he worked at Heathrow Airport just because Roger was sick, even if it was just a mild cold.

Freddie drops the stuff on the kitchen’s counter. Then, he goes back outside to inform the driver that he’ll grab a cab to go home, since he’s going to stay longer at Roger’s place. When he gets back inside the house, he sees Roger in the kitchen rummaging through the bag.

Freddie asks him, “Have you eaten?” He touches Roger’s head, caressing his temple just to feel his temperature. He quickly pulls back, relieved that it isn’t too hot. 

“Just plain toast so I could take the Panadol. Thanks for the medicine.”

“Stay in your bed. Here. Drink this lemon water.” He grabs a bottle from inside the bag and Roger thanks him as he takes it from Freddie.

“I’ll be resting in the living room,” he says. “Then I can be prepared to run out of the house if you burn down the kitchen.”

Freddie mock glares at him. “All this time I’ve been cooking for you, and now you accuse me of setting fire to your kitchen. I feel so underappreciated.”

There’s that strange look he gives Freddie. It might be the fever but it still causes Freddie to be flustered. And, before he can say anything, Roger surges forward and plants a kiss to his cheek.

“I do appreciate you.” His breath caresses the skin of his face and Freddie’s heart flips. 

“Ew, I don’t want to catch your lurgy!” He swats at Roger, putting some distance between him and the other man because Freddie is nearly dizzy at how close Roger was. Maybe he’s starting to catch whatever dreadful germs Roger has.

Roger chuckles and turns around, staggering towards the living room in his feverish state. Freddie tries to calm his own frantic beating heart. It’s the bloody fever that caused Roger to act that way.

He turns on the radio in the kitchen and lowers the volume so that the noise won’t disturb Roger. It’s not so hard to find the pots and other things that he needs in Roger’s kitchen. He hums along to the songs on the radio as he cooks the chicken soup and porridge. Occasionally, the radio plays Queen’s We Are The Champions, We Will Rock You, and Spread Your Wings.

While he’s preparing some egg sandwiches, he hears noises behind him. He turns around and finds Roger taking a seat at the breakfast nook.

“Smells delicious,” Roger tells him.

Freddie smiles. “Just give me a second and I’ll serve you the chicken soup. The porridge will need a few more minutes.”

Freddie serves the soup in a bowl to Roger and sits next to him. He watches as the man scoops the soup, blows it for a moment, and then takes a slow sip. His face brightens up afterwards.

“I miss your chicken soup. You used to make it when we were living in that flat.”

Freddie admits quietly, “Sometimes I miss those days.”

“Yeah, me too,” Roger’s tone sounds wistful. 

Freddie does enjoy being a rockstar. He loves it. He practically embodies it. But sometimes being a celebrity can be just a little too much for him. He remembers how a few years ago everything seemed so simple for them. No deranged paparazzi stalking them. No journalists questioning everything about their life. No critics talking shit about their music. No animosity from other rock bands towards them. Freddie still doesn’t get why those guys from the Sex Pistols are so against Queen. Definitely no crazy shit has happened to them- like accidentally being married to your best friend. Freddie sighs inwardly.

More white steam rises up from one of the pots. He gets up from his seat and checks on the porridge. After he’s satisfied that it’s cooked perfectly, he turns off the stove and takes a roll of wrapper to cover the sandwiches. After he’s done, Freddie goes back to sit next to Roger and places them on the table. “I made egg sandwiches for you.”

With a tender smile, Roger murmurs softly. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably eat toast the whole day.”

They both laugh when suddenly there’s the sound of the door being opened. Freddie turns to look at Dominique stepping into the house with a bag of groceries.

She looks surprised when her eyes land on Freddie and Roger in the kitchen.

“Oh, someone’s already cooked some food for you.” She sounds pleased as she looks at Roger’s soup.

She smiles at Freddie and nods at him appreciatively. He nods back.

“Freddie is being the best housewife ever. I think the correct term should be house _husband_ ,” quips Roger. Freddie swallows nervously. 

Dominique looks puzzled, like she’s not sure whether she should laugh at Roger’s joke or not. She puts down the grocery bag and leans over to kiss Roger.

Roger turns his head away from her. She looks confused.

“I’m sick. You’ll catch my cold,” Roger explains.

Freddie almost opens his mouth to say that Roger did kiss him, even though it was on the cheek. But he decides that may be too awkward for everyone. Then Freddie realises that since Dominique is around, he should not overstay his welcome. He stands up immediately which causes Roger and Domique to look at him simultaneously.

“I’m going home. Roger doesn’t need me anymore.”

While Dominique goes to the living room to make a call for a cab service, Freddie stays in the kitchen, washing whatever was in the sink that he had used to cook. Roger insists that he has to stay longer but Freddie lies that he forgot to fill up food and water for his cats at home. He always remembers to fill up their bowls, but it’s not like Roger knows that. Before he leaves, he reminds Roger to take his medicines and get some more rest.

_Roger doesn’t need me anymore_. Freddie had said that in front of them and had sounded sulky. It was so humiliating. What is wrong with him?

 

-

 

During practise, Roger is so focused and so beautiful that it _hurts_ to look at him. Because every time Freddie does, his skin feels hot, lungs constricting, heart quivering, and he’s not sure if he’s on the verge of a bowel movement or there’s something else going on inside his abdomen.

But Freddie can’t stop staring at him. And he’s certain that Roger notices.

Because Roger is staring back at him too.

 

-

 

Their third anniversary is coming soon and Freddie wonders if he should do something about it. It’s not like they got married because they wanted to. But Roger gave him roses for the past two months. Is giving Freddie roses still a joke to Roger?

This accidental marriage is making him confused. He is feeling _something_ for Roger. Feelings for his _accidental husband_ , his mind supplies, utterly unhelpful in his current state.

When the fifteenth of March arrives, Freddie feels unsettled the entire day. They don’t have any practise, nor does the band have any meeting. There’s no talk show that they need to attend, or radio show that needs them to interview. A few times Freddie picks up the phone and feels torn between wanting to call Mary just so that he has someone to talk to, or call Roger and ask him if he’s dropping by with his roses.

He’s utterly and completely pathetic. He loathes himself for being this way. It’s all Roger’s fault. No. It’s his fault actually. He should never have gotten high and drunk in Las Vegas and had them stuck in such an undesirable situation.

The day passes by and Roger doesn’t even once turn up with his roses.

Freddie tells himself that it’s just a joke.

It’s not supposed to mean anything.

 

-

 

Roger turns up at his house with a bouquet of yellow roses a few days later.

“I’m sorry I missed our anniversary.”

Freddie’s first instinct is to slam the door in Roger’s face. But he restrains himself from acting so childishly. He and Roger are technically married but they aren’t like _that_. And he finds himself absolute rotten for feeling this way. Freddie has been miserable these past few days and with the appearance of Roger, all he sees is sunshine and rainbows. Utterly pathetic.

He accepts the roses, thanking Roger as he brings them to his nose. They smell fresh and the colour of is so vibrant and appealing that it completely soothes whatever displeasure he feels for Roger. He remembers that as a kid he read his mother’s book about the language of flowers.

Yellow roses mean to apologize. He recalls Roger giving him pink roses last month. A pink rose indicates appreciation. Red roses of course symbolize true love, but that must be Roger just making light of their situation.

He lets Roger inside his house. Roger takes off his sunglasses and hangs them over the neck of his shirt. That’s when Freddie notices that the other man doesn’t look okay.

“Are you alright?”

Roger goes to the kitchen and takes out a beer from the fridge. He goes to sit on a stool as he tugs the pull-tab that opens the beer. He sips his drink, then looks at Freddie for a moment and says, “Dominique and I broke up.”

Freddie drops the roses on the counter as he feels something heavy plummet inside his gut. He feels very sorry for Roger. Breaking up with Mary nearly killed Freddie. Roger must be feeling miserable, even though their relationship lasted merely a few months.

“Why? Did something happen?”

Roger remains tight-lipped, simply content in drinking his beer.

Freddie gasps. “Oh my god. Is she… is she cheating on you with Richard Branson?”

Roger chokes on his beer. He coughs a few times, baffled with Freddie’s accusation, and repeats, “ _Richard Branson_?”

“She’s always hanging out with him.”

“Branson is her boss. Of course she’s _hanging out_ with him.”

Roger puts down the beer and peers down at Freddie. “She did nothing wrong. I just ended it because...” he trails off of his sentence.

Freddie waits patiently because Roger seems agitated about something, and is probably trying to gather his thoughts before he can voice them to Freddie. Roger jumps off the kitchen stool and starts striding across the entire length of the kitchen.

“We’re stuck in this.” Roger says, the words causing Freddie’s heart to twinge. “It’s not fair on her. It’s not fair-”

“Well, I’m sorry that we’re stuck together.” Freddie immediately cuts him off. “I’m sorry that you can’t have a normal relationship because of this.” 

Freddie feels as if his heart is caught in his throat. Roger is going to hate him. Roger is going to stop being his best friend. Roger is going to leave. And Freddie wants to fix all this before Roger does any of those things. There’s some kind of desperation that he rarely feels clawing through his chest. 

“But you don’t have to worry about it. You’re allowed to have a relationship. It’s not like we got married because we _wanted_ to. Nobody knows about it except the people who signed the bloody paper. It’s illegal, anyway.” Freddie’s heart clenches in pain as he echoes the thoughts that he had a few days ago: “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Roger suddenly rushes towards him and grasps both of his shoulders. His blue eyes seem so dark under the fluorescent light of the kitchen as they’re focused on Freddie’s.

“Fred, I’m not done yet.”

He notices how Roger is leaning towards him, their faces merely a breath away from each other.

“What I’m trying to say is, it’s not fair on you. Not on me _either_ , I think.” Roger murmurs.

His heart flutters and Freddie’s not exactly sure how to respond to Roger. His face is still too close to Freddie’s and it’s making it hard to think properly. “I don’t understand,” Freddie finally replies.

Roger sighs. He steps back, letting go of Freddie and going to sit back on the stool. He sips his beer and admits, “Me either, to be honest. Ever since Las Vegas happened, my feelings have been all over the place.” 

“The understatement of the year,” empathises Freddie. He feels exactly the same way too.

They remain silent after that, Roger continuing to drink his beer while Freddie takes out the yellow roses from the bouquet. He snips the stems shorter, fills the vase with water and puts the roses in the vase. He feels Roger’s gaze on his back as he walks towards the piano to place the vase on top of it.

When he comes back to the kitchen, Roger finishes his beer and says, “Let’s go somewhere.”

Freddie beams. “Just you and me?”

“Yeah.”

Freddie jokes, “Like a honeymoon?”

Roger’s eyes are twinkling in amusement. Then they both burst into laughter.

 

-

 

In the end, they decide not to go somewhere that they have to stay overnight in since they still have an obligation to attend practise and meet up with the others for their new album. So two weeks later, and a few days before they leave London for their tour, Roger wants to bring Freddie somewhere that isn’t even outside of London. He tells Freddie it’s a surprise.

“You can’t dress like that.”

“But I always dress like this,” pouts Freddie. He looks at the floral red shirt that he’s wearing. He thinks he looks fabulous in it.

Roger shakes his head in fond exasperation. “Your shirt is like a beacon. The paparazzi won’t leave us alone once they catch us.” 

He pulls Freddie up the stairs and pushes him into the master bedroom. Once inside, Roger opens his wardrobe and starts rummaging for something proper that Freddie can wear.

“Hey, this is mine.” Roger pulls out a plain white T-shirt. Roger digs out a few more tops which he believes used to belong to him.

Freddie blushes. He may have stolen some of Roger’s clothes before they moved out of their tiny flat.

“Oh. I don’t know how they got there,” lies Freddie, hoping that Roger doesn’t try to get them back.

“You can keep them,” Roger smirks at him, as if he knows the truth. Freddie gets even more flustered.

Roger hands him the stolen white T-shirt. “Wear this.”

“You want me to wear your clothes?”

Roger rolls his eyes. “Like you’ve never worn my clothes before.”

“But it’s so plain!”

Roger doesn’t budge. “And yet you stole it. C’mon. Take off that and wear this.” He jerks the T-shirt towards Freddie.

Freddie makes an exaggerated show of annoyance when he takes it from Roger. He wore it once and Mary had commented on how she never once saw Freddie wear something so simple. Freddie had thought it must be strange to her, especially when Mary eventually realised it belonged to Roger. He stopped wearing it after that and kept it nice and proper in the wardrobe.

He starts unbuttoning his floral shirt when he realises that Roger is staring at him. He smirks, “Do you want me to put on a show for you, darling?”

This time it’s Roger’s turn to blush and let out a huff of irritation before turning to look elsewhere. He is immediately distracted with Oscar, who is currently cleaning himself on the window sill of the bedroom. Freddie changes his clothes as he watches Roger carrying Oscar, cuddling the cat closer to him as Oscar paws at his cheek and bumps his nose to Roger’s. Freddie feels a sudden jealousy towards his cat. It’s utterly ridiculous to feel this way towards _his own pet_. But how is it fair that Oscar can be that close to Roger, and he can’t?

He must have make some noise because Roger turns to him. 

“Happy?” Freddie asks him, turning around exaggeratedly.

Bloody hell. It’s just occurred to him that he’s wearing Roger’s T-shirt and they’re going out in public. What if the paparazzi find out he’s wearing something that once belonged to Roger? But then he remembers that this T-shirt is really old- so old they were still with Trident. It’s just amazing that the T-shirt still looks in perfect condition.

“One more thing.” Roger places Oscar gently on the floor and takes off his dark brown leather jacket. He asks Freddie to wear it.

Freddie places it on him and his heart starts thundering behind his chest when he catches a whiff of something fresh and sweet on the jacket. It’s smells like forest and spring. A very heady scent that only belongs to Roger. It feels like Roger is marking him. The thought makes Freddie strangely giddy.

“Hmm, you look really good in my clothes,” Roger mutters distractedly. Utterly pleased with the compliment, Freddie feels himself blushing again. 

“I can use my own jacket,” Freddie tells him, secretly wishing Roger will be against the idea.

“It’s okay. It really suits you. Besides, I have a coat in my car that I can use.”

Then he throws one arm around Freddie and pulls him along. “Let’s leave now before the traffic gets worse.” 

 

-

 

“The zoo?” Freddie asks him in surprise. He feels like bouncing on his seat with excitement.

“You said you wanted to go to the zoo.”

“That was six years ago!”

“Yes. I still remember it as if you told me yesterday.”

Those peculiar feelings resurface again. At the same time, he’s touched that Roger still remembers their late night conversation from six years ago. It was one of those quiet nights when they had no gigs and Roger wasn’t picking up any girl from the pub to shag. Roger and he had been lying next to each other on Freddie’s bed, talking about things that they hadn’t done in their lives. Their conversations were mostly filled with laughter that night. Then Freddie mentioned that he wanted to visit the zoo in London one day. Roger was surprised to find that Freddie hadn’t once been there yet. So Roger made a plan to go to the zoo once they received some payment for their next gig. But a few days later, whilst fooling around in the studio, they received a visit from a Trident agent and had completely forgotten about their plans as they became more and more busy.

“We’ve been travelling all around the world all these years and the journalists will have a field day to know Freddie Mercury hasn’t once stepped into a zoo.”

His expression turns pensive. “Unless you already went with Mary and you never told me.”

Freddie quickly corrects him, refusing to let Roger feel bad about the plan he came up with for Freddie. “We never went. I did mention it once or twice to Mary but I guess at the time I was just too busy with our band.”

Luckily the traffic isn’t too bad, so they arrive at Regent’s Park within half an hour from Freddie’s townhouse. 

Because it’s a week-day there aren’t many people in the zoo. Freddie is like an excited kid, skipping cheerfully through the entrance, leaving behind Roger who is showing their tickets to the guard.

They’re right on time for the animals’ feeding hours so Freddie gets to hand feed the giraffes and the monkeys. They even wander inside the Aquarium building for nearly an hour, admiring all the coral reef fish. In another section of the building, there’s a variety of fish from the Amazon River that are being displayed. Both Freddie and Roger gape at the scary-looking piranhas swimming calmly inside the aquarium. 

Roger murmurs in amazement, “Their teeth are so sharp, like Jaws.”

“You mean Sharks. Jaws is a movie,” Freddie corrects him.

“Jaws. Sharks. Still the same thing.”

“Do you think I could pet the lions?” Freddie ponders once they’re outside, and heading towards the lions’ enclosure.

“No, Fred. Even if the zookeeper allows you to, which I highly doubt, I will not let you touch them. You’ve got your cats at home. You can pet them to your heart’s content. The big cats in here will eat your hand.”

Freddie teases, “If I lost a hand, would you still care for me?”

Roger chuckles and quips back, “Well, I did vow to take care of you, in sickness and in health.”

Freddie’s breath hitches. Did they exchange a marriage vow during that night in Las Vegas? Freddie feels utterly infuriated with himself. He always hoped that he could forget all the many mistakes he’s made in his life, but this is the _one mistake_ that he fervently wishes he could remember. 

“What was my vow to you?” asks Freddie, curiosity gnawing at him as he holds his breath.

Roger smiles slyly. “You vowed to still grab my arse even when I’m old and wrinkly.” Then Roger roars with laughter.

“What?! You’re joking!” gasps Freddie, absolutely mortified at Roger’s words.

Roger takes off his sunglasses and wipes a tear that slips out from one eye as he keeps laughing. Roger insists that he’s being positively truthful.

Freddie can’t believe he said something… unromantic. It’s understandable since he was high and drunk and said something as ridiculous as that, but it still makes Freddie feel slightly disappointed. He wishes that he had said something sweet. Something like…

_‘I promise to be yours, and truly yours.’_

Freddie snaps out of his embarrassing thoughts when Roger suddenly grabs his wrist as they arrive in front of the lions’ enclosure. Most of the lions are sleeping, the one resting on its back reminding Freddie of his cats that love sleeping that way. About three lions are snoozing up in a large tree. One is awake, its tail swishing left and right erratically, unlike the lion itself that walks sedately as it passes by them.

“I’m pulling you back if you take one more step towards that cage. Don’t you dare make any stupid attempts to touch the lion.” He makes a show then by squeezing Freddie’s wrist. It feels more like a reassurance, like Roger is keeping him safe and sound, than a warning to Freddie.

Freddie giggles and feels his own heart beating a little too fast for his liking. If he shifted his hand just a little, they’d be holding hands. His cheeks burn at the thought and he wonders if Roger can feel the beating of his heart from his wrist.

 

-

 

Freddie knows that he has been delaying talking to Miami. Somehow, Freddie doesn’t want to discuss it. As if he doesn’t want to know the truth. It is illegal for two men to be married but it happened to Roger and him. And there’s a marriage license that looks legal. But inwardly, Freddie is afraid that once they show it to Miami, their lawyer would have to announce that it’s actually void. That they’re not even married in the first place.

There’s a sharp pain behind his chest every time he mulls over it. He should be elated if the marriage license was truly invalid. More importantly, he should be overjoyed for Roger because he could marry any girl in the future without any problem. 

He also starts to suspect something of his feeling towards Roger. Freddie may have been oblivious at first, but he’s not stupid. His feelings for Roger are getting worse and it’s something that he can’t ignore anymore.

This feeling slaps him right in the face on the day that they have to fly to Sweden for the start of their News of The World tour in Europe. As usual, Freddie is the last person to arrive at the airport and the flight has to be delayed because of him. Reid is scolding him, nearly frothing at the mouth, and Paul tries to calm him while at the same time making sure that Freddie gets to the check-in desk as soon as possible. Freddie ignores the two men as he just can’t wait to get inside the plane and see Roger. Freddie hasn’t seen him since their outing to the zoo, but they have been calling each other nearly every day. When he steps into the business class cabin, he sees Roger pushing his bag into the overhead compartment. 

Roger turns around. His face lights up when he catches Freddie’s gaze. His heart flips because right in that moment, Roger with his tired blue eyes, messy golden hair, baggy shirt currently under his jacket, faded jeans and well-worn Adidas trainers, looks utterly _perfect_ to Freddie. Then that _yearning_ surfaces unexpectedly.

The desire to kiss Roger is so instantaneous, and so startling, that Freddie actually trips and falls right into Roger’s arms. He feels rather than hears Roger laughing at him, as he is too distracted inhaling the scent of earthy pine tree and sweet lilac that distinctively belongs to Roger. 

Freddie realises, with trepidation, that he’s falling in love with Roger Taylor.

 

-  
-  
-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freddie is falling in loooooove~ Now the questions is, what about Roger? I think you all would know what's going to happen in the next and final chapter and the outcome of the marriage license. Freddie already knows it. Roger probably knows it too. But they're just playing along. Leave me a review and let me know what do you think about this chapter. Feedback is like oxygen to me. Don't forget to click the kudos button! Have a great day, my beautiful people!


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